


Watching. Looking. Seeing.

by romanticalgirl



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 7-16-09</p>
    </blockquote>





	Watching. Looking. Seeing.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 7-16-09

Sometimes when Nate watches Brad, he's staring at something Nate can't see. It doesn't bother him, though. It intrigues him. It's like Brad sees things that are there, hiding in plain sight, and Nate doesn't always have that ability, too mired in walking the thin line between command and his men. Brad doesn't look away from where he's sighting along his weapon, doesn't look away up from where he's lying on the berm.

"You know, sir, you keep standing there like that, we're going to have to paint a big fucking red target on your ass."

"Right." Nate drops down beside him, and they're relatively secluded up here away from the camp, if a couple of yards counts as secluded. "It would probably lower morale for me to get my ass shot off."

"You mean for Bravo Two itself, sir, or just those of us who enjoy your ass?" Brad takes a moment to cast a quick glance at Nate, smiling slightly. "Because it does seem like too fine an ass to lose."

"I'll keep that in mind as well, Sergeant." Nate rolls his neck, head moving from side to side. "What do you see out there?"

Brad seems to understand what Nate means, because he doesn't answer right away, none of the stock responses in military jargon that equal 'jack shit' or 'a whole lot of desert' or 'the most fucked up military operation since the dawn of time'. "History." Brad reaches out and picks up a handful of dirt and lets it fall through his fingers, spinning away in the hot breeze. "Blood."

Nate watches Brad's fingers. "Me too."

"Death." Brad's not quite finished. He's poetic in his way, even though they're just small words that are supposed to be descriptive, but leave everything open to interpretation. He smiles slightly and turns his head toward Nate. "Beauty."

Nate reaches over and touches Brad's lower lip, running the tip of his finger over the dry, chapped skin. "You better be careful, Colbert. You're going to go to my head."

Brad smiles, slow and so knowing that it makes Nate's body flush hot, his cock stiffen, makes him want. "Lie back, sir, and I'd be damn happy to."


End file.
